Over the past few days, I’ve been in three different states. I’ve seen Lake Michigan from three sides. And I’ve driven (or ridden) more than 700 miles.
I’ve been struggling for a few weeks now to get a handle on some rather annoying personality quirks in myself. If I’m honest, I might even call them sins. I jump to conclusions, I become easily offended, I take everything so personally, and I complain when I don’t get my way.
Over the weekend, we were just beginning our Saturday brunch when I announced to the boys that there would be inspections following this week’s chores.
On Saturday, I donned exercise pants and t-shirt, laced up my running shoes, and hit the pavement for a 45-minute walk-run in the unseasonable warmth of February. I ran to the bank first, doing my kill-two-birds-with-one-stone plan of taking care of errands while I work out. It’s …
Outside, the bare branches of the rose bush and last summer’s basil and even the tulip poplar bend lows in the wind. It’s sunny now — the bright white light bouncing off the snow-covered ground. But it’s frigid. How those tender branches don’t just snap right off, I couldn’t say.